


Her Imperial

by SmokeysWife



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Porn With Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:01:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22587571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmokeysWife/pseuds/SmokeysWife
Summary: Briaca had no idea why she had followed him. It had been a spur of the moment decision, but there had been something in the way the Stormcloak had uttered the word 'orc' that made her feel uneasy.A one-shot about my orc Dragonborn, Briaca, because they really should have made Hadvar marriageable in the game.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Hadvar
Comments: 1
Kudos: 46





	Her Imperial

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually write smut, but this fic seemed to call for it. Hopefully it's not dreadful.
> 
> Skyrim's characters and settings belong to Bethesda - I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement.

'Forget the list. She goes to the block.'

Hadvar blinked at his captain, his face carefully schooled to show no emotion.

'By your order captain.' He swallowed down on the bile rising in his throat as he turned back to prisoner, dressed in little more than rags. A bruise was blossoming on her cheekbone; she clearly hadn't been taken without a fight, but her golden eyes held a weary acceptance as they met his.

'I'm sorry,' he said sincerely. 'I... We'll make sure your remains are returned to Orsimer.'

She stepped forward without protest, her eyes focused on the axe-man's block as she took her place in line with the other prisoners. He forced himself to watch as she stepped forward, kneeling in the dirt, her expression blank as she stared down at the head of the previous occupant. And then it all went to hell.

Briaca had no idea why she had followed him. It had been a spur of the moment decision, but there had been something in the way the Stormcloak had uttered the word 'orc' that made her feel uneasy. She stared blankly at the soldier as he cut her bonds almost apologetically. He didn't look at her as he told her to search the chests and she took the moment to take in her surroundings. She rubbed her wrists to get the blood flowing again and moved to the nearest bunk.

Imperial armour only. At least there were plenty of nords in Skyrim. Pulling on the armour, she was pleasantly surprised to find it was a reasonable fit. Her lip curled up in a sneer as she thought of her family armour, taken from her shortly after her arrest. No doubt the men had got a pretty price for it. The soldier cleared his throat behind her, holding out an iron sword.

'You'll need this,' he said. She looked down at it in surprise, before meeting his eyes.

'We're not going to make it out of this alive if we don't trust each other,' he said, in response to her unspoken question. She nodded and accepted the weapon, twirling it in her hands to test the balance. Basic. The scum who took her armour had taken her war axes as well. Fighting back had done nothing more than earn her a resounding smack around the face.

'Follow me, prisoner.'

'Briaca.'

He turned to her in surprise.

'My name,' she said. 'It's Briaca.'

'Hadvar,' he replied with a nod. He looked at her, his shoulders sagging slightly. 'How'd you get caught up in this?'

She shrugged.

'Wrong time, wrong place.'

'What happened to your gear?'

Her lip curled in a snarl, her eyes flashing dangerously.

'Your friends relieved me of it.'

Hadvar opened his mouth to protest, before closing it again.

'I'm sorry,' he said, eventually. She blinked at him in surprise. Whatever she had expected, it hadn't been that.

'Thank you.'

She risked a tentative smile, and he returned it gratefully.

'Come on,' he said. 'This way.'

Whatever Briaca's story was, she knew how to fight. She'd managed to get a second sword from somewhere, moving like a dancer, the twin blades an extension of her arms as she carved down one stormcloak after another. She'd 'accidentally' taken out the torturer as well, her eyes meeting Hadvar's in a silent challenge as they stood amongst the bodies. He hadn't been able to bring himself to care; the man had taken far too much enjoyment in his work for Hadvar's comfort.

The only time he saw her show any sign of discomfort was when the spiders descended. She attacked with a blind fury, her jaw clenched. Hadvar recognised the signs of someone battling with their own fear as well as the enemy and he admired her for it; there were many who would flee at the sight of the arachnids. She flinched as a limb touched her skin, bringing her blade down swiftly to stab the already dead beast.

'What will they think of next, giant snakes?' Hadvar remarked, trying to alleviate her tension. She let out a weak chuckle, sheaving her blade as she stepped tentatively around the carcasses.

'I got trapped in a spider infested cave as a child,' she admitted. 'Haven't been able to stand them since.'

Hadvar nodded sympathetically. She was surprisingly well-spoken, in spite of the slight lisp the small tusks jutting out of her bottom lip gave her. He'd met few orcs in his time, mostly bandits and mercenaries, but there had been a couple in the legion. They'd all been gruff men of few words, and he'd taken that to be representative of the race as a whole.

'I had a similar experience with skeevers when I was three. Can't stand the critters.'

'Really?' she said, her eyes twinkling in amusement. 'I had one as a pet.'

Hadvar let out a bark of laughter, that was quickly hushed as he took in the slumbering form in the cavern beyond. He put out a hand to stop Briaca, who had already gone into a crouch.

'We'll need to sneak around,' he whispered. She raised an amused eyebrow, before drawing the long bow she had looted from a stormcloak. With a swift movement, she fired two arrows. The bear jolted and then stilled, it's life force draining from it.

'Not the sneaky type, huh?' Hadvar said, somewhat impressed.

'It has it's uses,' she said, straightening up and shouldering the bow. She walked over to the bear, drawing a blade to skilfully skin the carcass.

'I'll be needing the leather to craft some new armour,' she said by way of explanation.

'You're a blacksmith?'

'I know my way around a forge.'

He shook his head, not even sure why he was surprised at this point.

'My uncle, Alvar, is the blacksmith in Riverwood. He should be able to help us out. I'm sure he'll let you use his.'

Briaca sat on the Whiterun ramparts looking thoughtfully out over the valley as she kicked her heels against the stone. Thane of Whiterun. Well that was... something. She had to admit, she liked the town. It was more diverse than a lot of places in Skyrim, and a lot of the townsfolk had gone out of their way to make her feel welcome. She had grown particularly close to Adrianne and the Imperial had granted her the use of the forge whenever she needed it. The armour she'd crafted herself was a poor replacement for that she had lost, but she now had two orcish war axes at her belt and a dagger at her thigh. She felt more at home than she had in a long time.

Her gaze travelled up to the summit of High Hrothgar in the distance. The Jarl had pointed it out to her when he'd told her of the Greybeards. She'd felt the summons, of course she had, but she couldn't bring herself to believe in this dragonborn nonsense. It sounded too much like fate, and she'd had her destiny determined by others for far too long. She wasn't about to replace the demands of her father and her clan for the demands of some ancient cult that wanted to... What? Worship her? Dictate to her? No, the Greybeards could wait.

Her mind drifted to Hadvar and his request to join the legion. She owed the imperials nothing, except possibly vengeance, but she wasn't stupid or blind. She could see the war beginning to encroach on Whiterun. In spite of Baalgruff's claim of neutrality, she knew he would side with the legion if push came to shove and when it did, these people, this clan she had started to build for herself, would all be over run. And while she didn't owe the Empire anything she owed Hadvar... something.

Sighing, she pushed herself off the wall, dropping easily to the ground. No rest for the wicked, it would appear.

Hadvar shifted uncomfortably as he waited with the rest of the soldiers to commence the run on Korvanjund. These old nord tombs always made him uncomfortable, but the legate had been insistent that they wait for some new auxiliary.

He jolted at a light tap on his shoulder, swinging round to meet sparkling gold eyes and a mischievous grin.

'You!' he exclaimed, grinning in return as he let out a loud chuckle. 'It's good to see you my friend.'

She winked and went forward to make her presence know to the legate. There was something different about the way she carried herself now. It wasn't a matter of confidence but perhaps... ease? She was dressed in the imperial armour, but non-army issue battle-axes hung at her hips and a bow that had to be of orcish make was slung over her shoulders. She seemed happy. There was no other word for it.

She fell back to stand beside him as Rikke began her speech, and he could feel the heat radiating from her even through his armour.

'I'm glad you're here,' he muttered. 'I don't like the looks of this place, and I'm not talking about the stormcloaks.'

'I know what you mean about these old ruins,' she said, nodding thoughtfully. She looked at him, her lip lifting slightly. 'Although once this is over, remind me to tell you about a recent foray into Bleak Falls Barrow for the Jarl.'

Legate announced the charge before he could answer and she ran off into the throng, her blades whirling about her like a tornado of pain.

Briaca hissed as she tended the wound on her shoulder. It wasn't deep but the shallow wounds always stung the worst.

She grinned as she thought back to the battle. It had been a good fight, and she had enjoyed fighting alongside Hadvar again. Maybe the nord would agree to spar with her sometime; she had no doubt he'd be able to hold his own against her.

Her lips quirked slightly. She hadn't been in the mood to appreciate Hadvar's... finer qualities previously, but now, as she sat in the carriage that was bearing her from Whiterun to Solitude, she allowed her mind to wander. 

She'd had little to do with humans before she came to skyrim. The clan didn't encourage visitors and there were few nords that came that far south. She had assumed all of them were funny little things like the imperials, but the nords... well the nords were as different from the imperials or the redguards as the orsimer were from the bosmer or the altmer. Taller than the other human races, they almost matched the orsimer in size. Indeed, Hadvar was taller than she was, if only barely. And toned. She hadn't really appreciated quite how attractive a skirt could be on a man with strong legs but what she could see of his calves made her wonder what the skirt might be concealing further up.

She squirmed in her seat, her fingers self-consciously probing at her prominent brow. She wondered how he viewed her. She could see, now that she was better acquainted with human facial expressions, why her people had a reputation as angry or aggressive. The ridge between her eyebrows and her wrinkled nose would look like a permanent scowl to the uninitiated. It was easy to see how the humans would find that intimidating.

She sighed, her hand dropping back to the axe at her hip. Her features were no doubt the opposite of attractive to the nords, but then she had known when she left that her chances of finding... Well she had accepted that she would be alone. She already counted herself lucky for the friends she had gained, to hope for more than that was foolish. Better no mate, than a mate that had been chosen for her. Better to be alone, than one wife among many, kept as a trophy highlighting the clan chief's prowess, both in battle and in bed.

She closed her eyes, tipping her head back, and allowed her mind to drift to happier things. Even if there was no hope, there was no harm in daydreaming.

  
The next time he saw her, was at Whiterun. Her cheery demeanour was gone, replaced by sheer determination, fury burning in her eyes as she watched the oncoming troops, her axes raised, ready to defend the city.

Her city, he realised. Unlike previous battles, this was personal to her. They still hadn't found time to catch up over a pint, but he'd heard rumours. Stories of a dragon slaying and a new thane.

'We'll keep them safe,' he promised. He was surprised she heard him over the deafening cries of the soldiers around them, but she shot him a tight smile, before launching herself off of the parapet and into the fray.

She found him by the city gate when the battle was over. He was covered in dirt, blood and sweat, they both were, but she had never seen him look so attractive. The fire of battle was waning within her, but it still sang in her blood and her eyes shone. She bit her lip as she approached, wondering if he knew just how damn irresistable he smelt to her enhanced senses.

'Drink?' she said. He grinned and gestured for her to lead the way.

  
The pub was rammed with soldiers, but they managed to snag a table in the corner. Briaca was clearly on good terms with the inn keeper and they had no problems getting served. He listened with wide eyes as she told him about Bleak Falls Barrow and the dragon fight that ensued afterwards, her hands wide and expressive as she acted out every instance of the fight. He found himself transfixed by the expressions that flittered across her face as she talked, her enthusiasm infectious. Her eyes seemed to glow in the firelight.

'Do I refer to you as the dragonborn from now on then?' he teased as she finished her tale. 

She pulled a face, taking a sip from her own tankard.

'So, are you going to meet with these Greybeards?' he prompted, when she made no reply.

'Perhaps,'she said, her fingers running around the rim of her mug. 'Once the war is over.'

He nodded, keeping his counsel. There were clearly factors at work she wasn't willing to share yet. Lifting his drink to his lips, he downed his drink, calling the waitress over for another.

  
They'd both been promoted by the time Hadvar saw her again. He'd been told to expect a praefect with information on a caravan, and when she'd tapped him on the shoulder, he'd felt a jolt in his stomach that had nothing to do with nerves about the upcoming fight.

'Well, well! Look who it is!' he exclaimed as she grinned at him, her eyes twinkling. He resisted the urge to rake his gaze over her body. Her armour, while still imperial, looked custom made and fitted her like a glove, highlighting her muscular physique. He cleared his throat, 'How have you been?'

She quirked her head to the side, eyes considering him.

'I'm alright, I guess. How are you?'

There was concern in her gaze as she looked at him, and the expression warmed him from the inside.

'I need this to go well,' he admitted. 'This is my first real command after they promoted me after Whiterun.'

She let the silence sit between them and he found himself continuing, 'You know, some nights when I close my eyes, I see the battle stretched out before me, like I'm still there.'

He found her eyes in the darkness. 'Do the men you killed haunt you? Mine do...'

She reached out and squeezed his hand, her touch gentle.

'Only a beast kills without feeling,' she said softly.

'I suppose you're right. They say it gets easier. I'm not sure if that's a good thing.' He cleared his throat as she dropped her hand. 'But never mind all that. We've got a job to do, haven't we?'

She nodded, and allowed him to change the conversation, but he was aware of her eyes lingering on him when she thought he wasn't looking, and he still remembered the warmth of her touch.

She couldn't keep doing this, she told herself, as her feet pounded on the road that led to Solitude. Being near him and not able to touch him was almost unbearable, but every time she left him it damn near broke her heart, worrying about whether she'd see him again. If this is what love meant, then she had been happier without it.

She stopped at a stabbing pain in her side, looking down at the dark liquid that stained her fingertips in the dark. Shit. The wound had reopened. She staggered to a nearby rock, and tentatively lifted her armour. A deep jagged cut ran along her side, partially healed with magic, but clearly not well enough. She closed her eyes, drawing on her reserves as she summoned her restoration magic. She bit her lip against the pain as she ran a hand along the wound, watching as the flesh bonded before her eyes. She'd been stupid to risk setting such a pace without letting it heal properly, but she'd needed to get out of the fort.

Her head swam as she tried to stand up, and she grabbed onto the rock for support. A wolf howled in the distance and a sudden shiver ran down her spine. She was in no state to fight. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

She drew her dagger from her boot and moved further back into the shadows, hoping against hope that nothing would detect her here.

'Didn't expect reinforcements!' Hadvar said, looking up at the platoon that entered the gate. The praefect leading the troop frowned.

'The General was concerned when no word was received, sir. We were sent to investigate, in case the attempt to take the fort had failed.'

'What? But I sent...'

Hadvar trailed off, his blood turning to ice as he realised Briaca couldn't have made it to the capital.

'You men, with me!' he shouted, pointing at two soldiers near the gate. 'Praefect, you have the command until I return!'

The praefect saluted smartly, looking on in bewilderment as Hadvar ran out of the gate.

  
'..e so stupid!'

The muttered voice was familiar and laced with concern, hands probing gently at the wound on her side.

'Hadvar?' Briaca murmured, pushing herself upright. The man leaning over her almost sagged in relief. He shook his head as he gently pushed down on her shoulder, keeping her in place.

'Stay still, I need to look at this wound.'

'Why are you here?' Briaca said, turning her head to the side so she could watch him. A myriad of emotions flickered across his face.

'Troops came from the capital. Tullius was concerned he'd had no news. Thought we'd lost the fort. I... I realised something must be wrong.'

'I'm sorry,' she rasped. He looked at her in surprise, and she attempted a weak smile. 'I didn't mean to scare you.'

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to ground himself. Reaching out he cupped her cheek, running a calloused thumb along her cheek bone.

'Just make sure you don't do it again,' he said hoarsely, withdrawing his hand and turning his attention back to her wound. 'What happened?'

'Got the wound... in the battle. Thought I'd healed it, but...' she shrugged and he frowned at her pursing his lips.

'Why didn't you tell me?'

'Would you believe me if I said I thought it was nothing?' she said. 'I've had worse.'

'Hmmm,' he hummed sceptically. 'I take it, it reopened on your way to Solitude?'

She nodded.

'I tried to heal it again, but... I guess I was weaker than I thought. Then I passed out.'

'I think you'll be okay to travel,' he said, lowering her tunic and helping her to sit up. 'Come on, let's get you back to the fort.'

They'd won! Hadvar could barely believe it, as he stood with the rest of the troops, listening as General Tullius made the announcement. His eyes travelled to the woman standing next to the general, her expression blank. Usually, after battle, Briaca was full of life, but this time she seemed the exact opposite. She looked exhausted, body and soul.

When the general finished his speech, there was a surge around the steps and Hadvar lost sight of her for a moment. When he looked back she was gone.

  
Briaca pushed back her hair with a satisfied sigh as she straightened and admired her handiwork. It had taken months of effort, but Lakeview Manor, as Rayya had insisted on calling it, was almost complete. It was so peaceful here. No one asking anything of her, or expecting anything of her. She felt a slight twinge of regret at the thought of her friends in the army, but after the final battle she had lost the love of the fight. She was more than happy to take down a worthy adversary in battle, but she could still hear the swish of her sword as she brought it down on Ulfric's neck, the jarl meekly accepting his fate.

Her heart clenched as she thought of Hadvar. She had seem him in the crowd at the end, but she hadn't been able to face him. Her heart just wasn't strong enough any more. It was time she embraced the calm, solitary life she had sought when she came to Skyrim.

Gathering up the last of the stone, she made her way slowly around the back of the house to add it to the pile. No doubt it would come in useful at a later date for further extensions. She came to an abrupt halt as she saw the man standing by the stables, looking up at the house with apprehension.

'Hadvar?'she breathed. He started at her voice, and she bit her lip, grateful that her dark skin would hide her blushes. She continued walking over to the stone pile and dropped her load before turning to look at him. She was surprised to find him less than a pace away.

'I was wondering where you went, after the battle,' he said. Brown eyes met gold, and he reached out a soft hand to gently push the hair away from her face. She stilled, barely daring to breath.

'I needed to get away,' she said. He nodded.

'From me?'

'From everyone.'

'And now?' There was a challenge in his eyes as his gaze played across her face, flickering down to her lips and back up. She caught her breath, taking a step forward.

'Now, I...' she swallowed, reaching out to place a trembling hand on the front of his tunic, not sure if this was truly happening or not. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself. It turned into a gasp as Hadvar gently pressed his lips to hers, her eyes fluttering open to meet his.

'Been wanting to do that for a while now,' he said, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. 'I just didn't...'

He didn't get a chance to finish as Briaca grabbed the nape of his neck and hauled him back in for another kiss.

There was nothing gentle about it this time, as he let out a groan, wrapping his arms around her to pull her close. She moaned against him, her mouth opening on instinct to allow him entry, his hands running along her back and her sides, anywhere he could touch. She felt her head fall back as ran his lips along her jaw and down to her collarbone, her breath stuttering as he nipped and licked her sensitive skin. She pulled him backwards until she was pressed against the wall of the house, her leg lifting to wrap around his hip as her mouth claimed his again.

Hadvar groaned, lifting the work skirt that was bunched at her thigh even higher as his hands moved across the skin of her stomach and his hips ground against hers.

'No house carl? Servants?' he panted, his breath warm on her neck as he broke the kiss to lathe his tongue along her neck. Briaca threw her head back with a hiss as his thumbs grazed across her nipples beneath her dress.

'Not... yet,' she managed. He slid his hands down her sides with a wicked grin, a query in his eyes as his fingers grazed the top of her smallclothes. She nodded her consent, and he dropped to his knees, pulling her knickers down as he trailed his hands down her legs and slipping them off. His hands nudged her legs wider as they moved back up, before tugging sharply at her hips so he was all but holding her weight, his mouth hot against her folds.

'Hadvar...' Briaca moaned, her hands grappling for purchase on the stonework above her head as his tongue dove inside her, before tracing a path back up her seam and circling her clit. Her hips moved of their own accord as he licked and and suckled, chasing the rhythm she was craving as he pulled her closer, keeping up the pressure until she shattered around his tongue with a sharp cry.

'Gods,' Hadvar muttered, wiping his mouth as he clambered back to his feet. 'You've no idea, how long I've dreamt�-'

His words were lost by Briaca's mouth on his, kissing him fiercely. He let out a groan as her hand found his swollen cock, wrapping around it and tugging him towards her as she nudged his breeches down. Her leg worked it's way back around his hip as she guided him to her entrance and they both gasped as he slid home.

His arms went beneath her thighs, hands protecting her back from the hard wall as he spread her wider and drove into her with abandon. Her head threw back as his pubic bone pressed against her already sensitive clit and her powerful thighs pushed and pulled with his thrusts, encouraging him harder and faster as every lunge drove them both closer to the edge. His mouth burned kisses down her throat as her hands gripped his hair, pulling him closer. It was almost too much, almost pain, and then she clenched around him, her whole body shuddering with the strength of her release, pulling Hadvar over the precipice with her.

They stayed there, Hadvar pressing her against the wall, panting into her shoulder as they both came down from there high. Her legs were shaky beneath her, when Hadvar gently released them to the ground, pulling her work-skirt down as he did so. He smiled sheepishly, his hands holding her hips gently as he pressed another kiss to her lips.

'Have to admit, I wasn't expecting quite such an enthusiastic welcome,' he said with a chuckle. He glanced away, his cheeks flushing before he turned back to meet her gaze again. 'Why did you run?'

She wanted to look away, but his brown eyes pinned her in place.

'It hurt too much,' she whispered, the blood rushing to her cheeks. 'I couldn't keep spending time with you and not...'

He pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

'I love you, Briaca. Gods, I love you so much.'

She bit her lip as a traitorous tear spilled out onto her cheek.

'I love you, too,' she whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading:)


End file.
